


3

by Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo), Skerft



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bisexuality, But also Courtney, Current reylo, Exes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Multi, Past Darkpilot, Porn with some plot, Preylo, Shepard made me do it, Threesome - F/M/M, mostly reylo + poe, yes PREYLO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-30 05:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19846738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ever_So_Reylo/pseuds/Ever-so-reylo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skerft/pseuds/Skerft
Summary: “Ben tops,” Poe informs her with a smile and a wink, like it’s an amusing bit of information to share, like it’s the most natural thing to bring up to a casual acquaintance in a Jamba Juice on a Tuesday at half past noon.In which Rey is very intrigued when she finds out that Ben and Poe used to do it.





	3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Imprints](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17919194) by [KyloTrashForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever). 



> 😬😬😬

“Ben tops,” Poe informs her with a smile and a wink, like it’s an amusing bit of information to share, like it’s the most natural thing to bring up to a casual acquaintance in a Jamba Juice on a Tuesday at half past noon.

“Oh.” Rey swallows, and looks down at her smoothie, swirling the straw through the pink sludge. “Do you… Did _you_ want to…?” 

“Oh, no. No, no interest, believe me. I was perfectly happy.” He waves his hand, even more amused by _that_ suggestion. “But it was sort of like… a personality trait of his. Like that boring-ass classical music he listens to in the car, or the fact that he can run a marathon in three hours. I mean—” he shrugs “—you know Ben. He’s your boyfriend.”

He is. Rey’s boyfriend. For a while now. And they—they love each other, they like each other, they _know_ each other, like Poe said. Except that maybe they don’t, because somehow the fact that, before meeting her, Ben had been in a relationship with another _man_ for several years hadn’t even managed to come up in conversation until said man had randomly started working with Rey. 

“We were never that serious. That is—at the time I would have liked for us to be a bit more… Well, he’s the one who broke it off, eventually,” Poe says, and there’s less amusement and more reassurance in his tone, now. “It was before he got involved in the whole First Order thing. Glad he’s finally out of Snoke’s clutches, by the way. The world doesn’t need more bad lawyers.” 

Rey nods, because he’s right. Ben’s not quite a _good_ guy, maybe, and he’d probably rather find work at Target than at the ACLU with Rey and Finn and Poe, but at least he’s not working for Snoke anymore.

“Bottom line is—the reason I asked you to meet is that I wanted to make sure you don’t feel… threatened, or something. The two of you—you make a really beautiful couple. He looks happy—way happier than I’ve ever seen him. And it’s all water under the bridge, between us.” 

Poe smiles encouragingly; Rey nods and looks down, sucking noisily at her straw.

…

It’s a lie. It’s a huge, dirty, _rotten_ lie—and the worst of it is, Rey is not even sure that Poe knows it. 

Though, he must. Poe can’t be unaware of the fact that his eyes are glued to Ben whenever he’s in the room; of the way he seems to always man-mark him when they play soccer on weekends; of how the first reaction he checks for whenever he makes a joke is Ben’s. 

But then again, Ben can be like that: even though he barely talks in large groups, even though he’s not necessarily well-liked, he has a way of constantly becoming the center of gravity of every social situation. And, as Finn tells Rey with an easy shrug, ”Poe flirts with everybody, anyway.” Which is true: Poe is a black hole of sexual chemistry. The man talks to his _dog_ like he’s hitting on him, and Rey once saw him wink at Jabba. So maybe there’s nothing to notice here.

But then she catches Poe reaching up to tuck the tag of Ben’s t-shirt back in.

Staring at Ben’s Adam’s apple while he guzzles down water after a game.

Bringing a date to Rose’s birthday dinner, someone who could be Ben’s slightly shorter, slightly less nasally well-endowed twin.

And her mind begins to spin and spin and _spin_ around one thought.

…

She blurts it out after three piña coladas—and one daiquiri, but only because whoever is in charge of catering Leia’s retirement party clearly dropped the ball on the coconut milk supplies. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just the way Poe spent almost a minute straightening the knot of Ben’s tie—even though it was not _that_ askew in the first place. Nevertheless, Rey closes her eyes, lets the back of her head rest again the car seat, and says:

“He wants to fuck you.” And then she giggles. “No, wait. It’s the other way around, right? He wants you to fuck him?”

Ben stops pulling out of the parking spot and turns to her.

“What?”

“He wants you to fuck him.” She is slurring her words. “I mean—I can’t blame him, I was there too, I _am_ there still, so I totally get why he—”

“Who?”

_Uh?_ “Poe. Of course.”

Ben blinks at her, looking a little simple-minded. “Poe… Dameron?”

“Mm-hmm.” Her head is starting to hurt.

“He does not.”

“Ben. He _so_ does.”

“No.”

“The way he looks at you.”

“He doesn’t look at me—”

“Just like _I_ didn’t look at you?”

The thing is: Ben is clueless. Ben really has no idea. No sense of himself. Ben doesn’t care, doesn’t notice, doesn’t mind. Ben didn’t notice Rey was gone for him until she basically skywrote it, because he is a weird mix between an ascetic monk and a freak in the sheets: he doesn’t need or like people (except for Rey), he’s not interested in sex (bar sex with Rey), he doesn’t even go places if it’s not work related (unless Rey asks him to). Since the very beginning, Rey has felt like she is the center of gravity to this man who’s everyone else’s center of gravity, and—

She needs to thread carefully.

“You’re oblivious,” she tells him. Lovingly. Because he’s adorable.

“Rey.” His eyes are big and earnest. “I don’t think he does. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, I have no interest in—”

“I know, I know.” She laughs drunkenly. And then—then, after a beat, she _doesn’t_ laugh. “But what if I do?”

Ben opens his mouth, and immediately closes it. “You…” he starts, and then he frowns and scratches his forehead, as if tackling an unsolved mathematical theorem. “You want to—Are you saying that you want to… with Poe—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Rey reaches for his hand. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Ah.” He looks relieved. “Good. I thought—”

“I’m saying,” she tells him slowly, “that I want _you_ to do that.”

…

She doesn’t know what it is, about the idea of Ben fucking Poe. 

The idea that seeing two men during… doing _that_ might be a turn on certainly had never occurred to her before, and while she’d never really thought of herself as a jealous person, watching her boyfriend getting it on with someone else had always sounded more like a dealbreaker than a kink to her. 

Maybe it’s the way Poe said _“He tops_ ”, with that muted, secretive gleam in his eyes. It had seemed to hint at something unknown, something about Ben that Rey hadn’t been privy to. She could have spent her entire life in blissful ignorance. Happy and content with her own Ben, who had never _topped_ a handsome, built, charming man. But Poe’s brief, nonchalant words had sent that ship sailing.

There are pretty pictures to be painted, here. Poe, strong and horny, held down by someone who’s hornier and stronger. The things Ben does to her— _with his long fingers and his even longer cock and that soft, soft mouth_ —but to another man, who just lies back and _takes_ it. A glimpse at what his life used to be before Rey even knew he existed. 

There are a lot of pretty pictures, and Rey finds that she wants to see them all.

…

She doesn’t think, not for a second, that Poe will say no. And she turns out to be right, because this time, when she drags him to Jamba Juice over their lunch break and stammers her way around propositioning him without actually using the word ‘sex’, Poe’s eyes widen and widen and widen until he almost yells:

“Holy shit. _Yes_.” He nearly knocks over his protein shake while leaning towards Rey. “Wait,” he whispers, realizing that the teenager manning the register is frowning at them and lowering his voice, ”does Ben know about this?”

Rey’s cheeks feel so hot, she is mildly afraid she might burst into flames. “Yeah, I... of course. I checked with him, first.”

“You checked?”

“I told him. That I wanted to… You know.”

“And what did he say?”

“He just…”

Nothing, really. Rey hadn’t been sure what to expect—she’d figured maybe he’d be repulsed, or titillated, or enraged; she definitely hadn’t though that he’d just look at her with that open, confused expression, and then ask her in a quiet, vulnerable tone: _“Are you unhappy with our sex life?”_ It had taken Rey about ten minutes to explain that—no, no, it wasn’t that, not at all, this was more about how attractive she found Ben and the idea of him... Poe was almost incidental, and this was not really about Poe, not at all—and at the end of a very long and meandering speech he’d finally smiled and taken her hand. 

“ _Rey. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you._ ”

_“You wouldn’t mind? You wouldn’t feel… objectified or—or—or—”_

He’d shrugged, and his smile had gone lopsided. _“I don’t think I’d mind being your object.”_

So Rey clears her throat. “He just… He said he’s up for it. If it’ll make me happy. That he sort of likes the fact that I’m so much into the idea.”

Poe laughs softly. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“He’s just…” Poe shakes his head. “He was not like this when I was with him. I didn’t think he could… like someone this much.”

Rey flushes even harder, for a totally different reason. “But still—I don’t want either of you to feel like I’m forcing you to—”

“Oh, I’m not. Believe me, I’m—this is pretty much making day. My week. My year. My decade.”

Rey frowns, a little worried. 

“No, I—” Poe lifts his hand and hastens to add, “I don’t—I’m not pining after Ben, or secretly in love, or anything. But—and I don’t mean to be gross or offensive, but… it was the best sex of my life. By far. Out of _a lot_. And Ben was relatively… I mean, he’d barely even had any before we met, so it’s just...” He sighs. “It’s not even what he does, but _how_ he does it. Mostly that he’s just so single minded and disciplined and he’ll do _anything_ and his cock is just—”

Poe stops himself, looking at Rey with a half-dazed, half-apologetic expression. And Rey—maybe she _should_ find this gross, or offensive, but the truth is that she knows _exactly_ what Poe is talking about. 

What does surprise her, though, is when he concludes with: “And you are so beautiful, too.”

“I… what?”

“You are just…” Poe gestures at her—her face, her torso, her body hidden under the cheap plastic table. “You are stunning.”

Oh my god. _Oh my god._ Rey has to look away from him. “I… thank you. The thing is…” God. She’s regretting this, now. Maybe.

“What is it?”

“It’s just…” She cups her face with both hands. “I’m not sure how I fit into this. Yet.”

“Oh.” Poe looks slightly put off.

“I… I definitely want to watch,” she blurts out. “And Ben says that as long as he’s around, he’s okay with me doing whatever I… you know. But I’m not sure yet if… I’d rather play it by ear, if that’s okay.” 

Poe stares at her for a long moment, and then he nods somberly.

“Of course. I understand. I—whatever you prefer. I want you to feel comfortable.” He takes a sip of his shake. “But I hope you won’t mind me telling you that… I really hope you’ll join us.”

…

There is, apparently, an etiquette to threesomes, especially if they’re not within the context of an established polyamorous relationship. Negotiations. Plans. Discussions on limits. Though Ben, Rey, and Poe sort of skip that part, mostly because none of them has any idea what that would even look like.

Ben: <Seriously?>

Poe: <What?>

Ben: <You’ve never had a threesome?>

Poe: <You said you haven’t either!>

Ben: <Yeah, but I’m not you.>

Poe: <What’s that supposed to mean?>

Ben: <I don’t know. You once insisted on blowing me in a crowded theater during a Shrek matinee. A threesome seems pretty tame in comparison.>

Poe: <Well, you let me.>

At her desk, Rey covers her mouth with her hand and looks around. Poe is nowhere to be seen, which means that he’s probably in court, or meeting a client. While he reminisces with Ben about their sexual history in the WhatsApp group chat she created for the three of them (titled with two unicorn emojis and a fairy). When she rereads the last few messages, she has to press her thighs together.

Poe: <And it’s not like the opportunity never arose.>

Rey: <Wait>

Rey: <It did?>

Poe: <Yeah, of course.>

Poe: <Hey, I’m hot.>

Rey: <I know! Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t!>

Ben: <Rey, don’t feed his ego. He’s not that hot.>

Poe: <Shut up, Ben. Rey, keep feeding.>

Poe: <I just was never attracted to the people offering, or never enough.>

Poe: <I am a man of discerning taste.>

Ben: <Right>

Ben: <You once insisted on putting on tentacle porn while we were having sex.>

Poe: <As I said: discerning taste.>

Poe: <And again: you let me.>

Rey has to take several deep breaths. And then she shoots up from her desk and down the hall, to spend a couple of minutes inside ladies restroom.

…

It’s not awkward at all. Or maybe just a little, but only because of Rey. At dinner—which Ben insists on, because _“Rey needs to eat at least seven thousand calories a day or she gets feral”_ —it’s abundantly clear that Poe is simply not hardwired to experience embarrassment. Ben is just…. Ben. Quiet and drily amusing and slightly detached, with his vaguely disinterested attitude towards anything and anyone except for Rey. He checks on her with long looks and brief touches, and asks her twice in front of Poe if she’s okay and still wants to go ahead with the plan. The third time, she dunks a waffle fry in his beer, and he retaliates by pretending to bite her neck. 

After that, the night is mostly entertaining. Poe and Ben spend dinner teasing each other in a way that reminds Rey more of college roommates than long lost lovers. She would use the word ‘brothers’ but… it doesn’t quite seem to fit the circumstances.

Then they’re done eating. Ben takes care of the check, tosses his napkin on the table, and stands to leave. Rey’s heart skips a beat—and then another, when she catches the way Poe bites his lip as he stares at him.

…

“Is this where you guys sleep?”

They’d decided on Ben’s house—mostly because it’s also Rey’s house, since she’s been living here for over one year. But Ben had immediately declared their bedroom off limits, and it’d felt somewhat right to her, too.

“Nope. Guest room.” Ben takes off his jacket and then begins to undo his tie—he’s the only one who came straight from work. Poe is looking around, studying a non-descriptive landscape painting that is probably a priceless Skywalker heirloom, and Rey is just… leaning against the wall. Watching. Waiting. “Did you want something to drink?”

“Ah, no thanks, I’m good.” Poe turns around. ”What shall we—“

Poe doesn’t see it coming, Rey imagines. _She_ barely does, and she’s the one with a good visual of the room. So Poe cannot possible have been expecting it, the way Ben closes the distance between them and cups his jaw before pulling him into a bruising, aggressive kiss 

That’s probably why he groans. And Rey groans, too, or maybe it’s more of a gasp that turns into a moan when she realizes that Poe is—very much into it. That he’s letting Ben slide his fingers through his hair and angle his head, that he’s returning the kiss and grinding his hips against Ben’s thigh and clutching his biceps through the dress shirt like he wants to pull him closer, even closer, and—

It’s so _obvious_. It’s so clear, that this is not the first time they do it. They might be a bit rusty, but this has happened a million times before for no reason other than the fact that these two men enjoyed touching and licking and _opening_ each other’s bodies and—

Rey exhales. It comes out sharp and loud, because without realizing it she had been holding her breath for a while, and Ben immediately stops what he’s doing to focus on her.

“You okay?” he asks. Poe is kissing up and down his turned neck, coming to suck at the base of his throat—right at the hollow where Rey settled before falling asleep last night. Ben doesn’t mind, judging from how he’s holding Poe’s head to his skin.

Neither does Rey.

“Yes. Yes, I…” She lets out a breathless laugh and wraps her arms around herself. _I love this. It’s perfect. I want to see you do_ everything _to him. Everything._ “Continue. please.” She truly has no idea, what it is inside her—why this turns her on so much. Maybe it’s that there is something different, in the way Ben and Poe touch and undress each other. Very little care, as Poe undoes Ben’s button-down with clumsy fingers and Ben rips Poe’s shirt out of his pants. A lot of hushed words, too— _no, ouch, idiot, no, no like this_ —and more laughter than she’d have expected and then—

“Fuck you, Solo.” Poe’s hand is trailing down his abs, and he sounds breathless. “People are supposed to get fat, after ten years.” 

Ben’s eight pack. That’s what Poe’s referring to. The first time Rey saw it was not so long ago that she doesn’t remember the blow of it. 

Hot. This room is starting to feel stifling.

“Did _you_ get fat?” Ben tosses Poe’s shirt behind his shoulder and then spins him around, pushing him until he’s laying face forward on the bed. Poe’s yelp is half amused, half outraged, and mostly delighted. Obscene. He lands with his cheek on the bedspread, and maybe it’s just a coincidence, but his eyes find Rey’s, and he holds her gaze as Ben yanks down his pants and takes them off, all at once with his shoes and underwear. 

“Your ass looks good,” Ben says conversationally, like he’s pointing out the weather, or a good tapas place to relatives from out of town. 

Poe makes a sound, a growl deep in the back of his throat. Maybe because he’s naked, and Ben is not, and—the way Ben touches Poe, his thighs and the dimples in his lower back and the cleft between his cheeks, it’s so unlike him. It’s not that Ben doesn’t ever hold Rey down, or keep her still when he takes his time with her, but now there is… nothing of his usual reverence in his touch. Some affection, still. Familiarity. But Ben seems feral, a beast made of pale skin and muscles and sex, and seeing that, it’s just…

Rey squirms. 

God. She wants to slide her hands down her panties. She could, so easily, with the dress she’s wearing. Ben wouldn’t notice, and Poe’s eyes are already unfocused, rolling in the back of his head, so—

“What’s it been, since I fucked this?” Ben’s palms are big and warm and very rough. Rey knows exactly they must feel like on Poe’s ass. “Ten years? Eleven?”

“Fuck, Ben.” 

Poe bites his lip, wets it _,_ and he’s holding Rey’s gaze, as if to tell her: _You know, right? You know how this feels, how_ he _feels?_ As if to tell her: _Thank you._

“Too long. It’s a good ass, I seem to remember. Sweet and tight.” It doesn’t even sound like dirty talk. Ben is so calm, so matter of fact. Absorbed. And yet his erection is _obscene_ , tenting his pants like it’s about to burst. “I’ll get you ready, if you go on your hands and knees.”

Poe _scrambles,_ tilting his ass up in the air. Probably because he knows, that it’ll lead to Ben kneeling behind him and finally, _finally_ touching his cock. A few firm strokes and Poe’s howling, hiding his face in the pillow, as loud as Rey knew he’d be during sex, even though she’d never even stopped to think about it.

_Oh, God. God, God, God._

“That’s a lot of precome,” Ben says softly. But he doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s licking Poe’s balls as he says it, rolling them on his tongue as he jerks him roughly. And then he pulls Poe’s cock back, and his lips—Ben’s soft, plush lips that are always so gentle and greedy against her clit—they close around the tip after a long, savoring lick. “Mmm. Same taste as before.”

Poe moans. But Rey—Rey moans _louder_. Dirtier. 

“Still doing okay, Rey?”

It’s such a harmless question. She has no idea why it doesn’t _feel_ like it—maybe because Ben asks it with his lips against Poe’s shaft, right before using his tongue on the ridge below the head. 

Maybe it’s because Poe is _keening_.

“I—yes. Yes.” It comes out so choked. Impatient. 

“Good.” He takes Poe’s dick a little deeper in his mouth and— _sucks_. Sucks, sucks, _sucks_. Which makes Poe groan like he’s being taken apart, like he’s wrecked and ruined and devastated, and Rey thinks that maybe he really is. “Will you help me?”

It’s—by far, the most erotic thing she has ever seen. It’s everything that she—

“Mm? Will you help me, sweetheart?”

Oh. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. He must mean Rey. He must want her to help him with…

“I… I don’t know if…”

“It would just be taking the lube from the drawer, and bringing it to me.” He is—between words, Ben is putting his tongue up Poe’s—he is _licking up his_ — “But only if you feel comfortable with it.”

“Fuck, Rey,” Poe croaks. “Fuck—please bring him the lube so he can— _ngh_.”

She does it. She does it because it’s nothing, really, and because she knows that getting closer to the bed will mean a better view of Ben, of the way he’s spreading Poe apart, of the slight tremor in Poe’s spine. Ben smiles when she hands him the bottle, and his lips are shiny and red, even fuller than usual. 

He doesn’t take the lube from her. “Will you pour some here?”

_Here_ is where his thumb is gently tapping on Poe’s hole, making him squirm and gasp. And Rey—she just nods. She swallows, and nods, and her fine motor skills are currently shot, but she somehow uncaps the bottle and makes it work and Poe is _glistening_.

“Good girl,” Ben whispers, so low that Poe can’t hear over the noise of his own harsh breathing. And then Ben leans down to kiss her cheek, a soft, silent thank you, that would be very wholesome and heartwarming if—

If Ben weren’t busy sinking his thumb inside Poe’s hole at the same time. 

“ _Aaaah_ —fucking _shit_ , Solo.”

“Hush.” Ben is holding Rey’s eyes, but it’s clear that the words are for Poe. “You’re alright.”

“How is you _thumb_ so—fucking _big_?”

“How is your ass so tight?” Ben slides in and out, and Rey is so close, so close, she can see Poe clench and contract around him, eager and wet. “Been a while?”

“God—it’s been so _long_.” 

Ben is still looking at Rey, and it’s surreal. Surreal, that he knows Poe’s ass so well that he can find his way around it blind. He switches to two fingers, flexing them to find a spot that—yeah, yeah, _there_ , and the grinding, circling motion seems to be driving Poe insane. “Has it?”

“Just— _Ben_. You know what I— _Jesus Christ._ ”

Poe is begging him. Maybe not with words, but the way he moves, desperate and entirely too wild. That place inside, deep—whenever Ben curls his hand and grazes it, he snaps his hips and yelps and arches luridly for long seconds.

“Okay. If it’s been so long.” Ben glances down at Poe, at the sweat pooled on his lower back. He is gyrating his hips, fucking himself of Ben’s fingers. A little mindless, for sure. Mesmerizing. “Rey. Can you help a bit more?” Ben’s free hand comes to her waist, light and gentle, and maybe it wouldn’t be so insanely hot if the other one wasn’t currently pumping Poe’s insides.

“What do you want me to…?”

“Take me out of my pants, and put lube on me.” His hand slides down to brush the curve of Rey’s backside. “A lot, since Dameron here has let his ass go back to near mint condition.”

Poe laughs. “You fucking asshole—” But he stops with a a sharp exhale when Ben presses his fingers half an inch deeper. It’s an odd kind of turn on, seeing Ben so calm and in control when he's doing most of the work—when it’s obvious that both Poe and Rey are just waiting, _dripping_ for him.

“Like this?” she asks with her hand on the zipper of his slacks, and he nods encouragingly.

It’s not like she’s not familiar with Ben’s cock. She knows it’s warm, and usually, when she’s around, hard, and she knows that it absurdly big, that it barely fits in her hand. It’s not even the first time Ben asks her to put lube on him, but there’s something about knowing that the reason she is stroking him up and down with her fist is that he’ll soon be inside Poe’s... inside Poe. And also something about the flush on his cheeks, when he stops her with a hand on her wrist before telling her:

“Enough. Don’t make me come.”

It makes her cunt clench, his low tone. And her brain fog. It makes her dizzy, and that’s probably why it takes her a moment to realize that his fingers are pulling up her dress, up and up until Ben can see the hem of her pink lace panties.

He’s the one who put them on her, this morning. After they’d had sex in the shower, while she lay in bed smiling and trying to force herself to get ready for work. And he’s the one who’s taking them off now, twisting them down her thighs until Rey can only let him take them. 

“I—Ben, what are you…”

He smells them. He brings her undies to his face and smells them, and then he licks his lips. “Just borrowing them for a second.” His fingers pull out of Poe’s hole, who groans in protest. They are glistening with lube, and Ben uses the panties to wipe them, fixing Rey’s gaze the entire time. “Thank you.”

She whimpers. And Poe groans.

“I swear to God Ben, if you don’t put it inside me—”

He starts with the tip. Just the tip. He presses it inside with a flick of his thumb and Poe’s body just—it _swallows_ it. Eager and greedy. 

There is a moment of quiet, of suspension, and then three things happen at once. Poe bubbles something slurred and inaudible—a mash of _please_ and _your dick in my ass_ and _too big_ and _your fucking slave_ ; Ben grunts, deep and rich, like the sound is punched out of his chest; and his arm wraps tight around Rey’s waist and pulls her even closer to his side. His eyes are starting to get opaque and maybe a little glassy, but as he looks at her with a soft smile his meaning is transparent. 

_We’re doing this together, Rey._

She—she _really_ doesn’t mind.

“You’re splitting me in two,” Poe is whining. But also—not whining at all. He is impaling himself further on Ben’s cock, and—it’s a weird dynamic, that Rey can’t quite read.

“Am I?” Ben kisses Rey on the lips, chaste but lingering, and then looks back to Poe’s ass. He caresses one asscheek, soothing and gentle. “You can take more.”

“No. Not until I get used to—aaah, shit shit _shit_ , Ben, yes, yes just go deeper—don’t stop, don’t—” 

It takes him less than a minute, to go in balls deep. There are a few stuttering moments, seconds of tension when they just seem to try to breath, when Rey wonders if maybe Ben is too big, or Poe too small; if they’re not compatible anymore, after all. But Ben bites into his lips and arranges Poe to his liking, tilting him and stroking him and even once ordering him tersely to _‘bear down—yes, good. Like that’_ , and in the end—they are just fucking. With long and shallow thrust, and Poe calling for more, calling for harder, calling for again, again, _again_. He is losing his mind, he missed this sooo much, he’s gonna come so hard on Ben’s big cock because Ben has ruined him for anyone else, please, please, oh fuck.

Ben closes his eyes, as if trying to center himself, and then thrusts as he mutters something that might be _‘too fucking tight’_ , though Rey is not quite sure. She is hugging his waist now, flush to him under his arm, and as she listens to the slapping sounds of their balls she wonders if she can come just _watching_ this.

Her clit is throbbing in time with her heartbeat. And something wet and slick has trickled down to her knees. So, yeah: it seems possible.

“Do you—oh fuck Ben _yes, there_.” Poe bites into the pillow. “Do you guys do this?”

It takes Rey a moment to realize that the question is addressed to Ben and her.

“This?”

“Yes. Do you let Ben fuck your ass?”

Rey swallows. Ben keeps thrusting, one hand spreading Poe further, but he huffs out a silent laugh and kisses her neck, as if to say: _it’s up to you, whether you want to answer_.

“I…” Rey has to swallow. “Yes. He has.”

“Oh, yeah?” Poe moans. “He has once? Or more?”

“He…” She is not—she is not even doing anything. Why is her voice trembling? “More. He.. we do it… We do it often.”

“Shit.” Poe laughs. Rey wishes she could see his face, instead of just the rhythmic rise and fall of his hips. “I knew it. I thought about it the second Finn told me you were Ben’s girlfriend. God, I’d watch porn of that. Of the two of you.” 

_Oh my God._

“It’s you Ben, right? You asked her to let you fuck her sweet little ass? Maybe you had to convince her?”

“Shut up,” Ben says, but he keeps pushing in and out, and his tone is mild. Probably because Poe’s right. 

“But then you broke her in and you made her enjoy it and—Rey, you know how this feels, don’t you? You know what he’s doing to me, ri— _ah._ ”

It happens very quickly, Poe’s orgasm. Noisy and messy, too, with a puddle of come trickling down to the bedcover, and groans and moans even louder than the siren blaring outside. Then again, Rey can’t blame him, and she can’t blame Ben for the exasperated way in which he pushed two fingers inside Poe alongside his cock. 

She—she truly cannot imagine, how full Poe must be feeling. How stretched at the seams.

“To shut him up,” Ben explains to Rey with a whisper before nuzzling against her cheek and letting go of her. 

And then he—then gets on the bed with his knees and pushes Poe—still writhing, still gasping, still shuddering Poe—down in his own come and begins to fuck him for real, even through the sharp clenching of his orgasm. Because it immediately becomes obvious, that up until now Ben was restraining himself. 

“You,” he says, and he nips at Poe’s neck, hard. “And your big mouth.”

Poe moans, and he is _drooling_ , and Ben is—he is pounding him into the mattress. With no restraint.

“But your ass is good, and it makes up for it.” He sucks at Poe’s shoulder blade, in a way that will probably leave a mark. Rey knows, by now. “So at least there is that.” His rhythm picks up, both speed and strength. “It’s better that good. In fact it’s—ah, _yeah_ , gonna finish me off any second now—”

Rey can’t see very well from the foot of the bed, but she thinks Ben bites Poe when he comes. It would explain the muffled noises, and they way they grind against each other in jerky movements, and the fact that long minutes later, when Ben exhales and pulls himself up and out of Poe, they’re both chuckling a little, murmuring ’ _ouch_ ’ and ‘ _sorry_ ’ and ‘ _you dick_ ’ in soft, affectionate tones. 

Rey feels raw. Exposed. Strung tight and hypersensitive but also paralyzed as she watches Ben get to his feet and Poe lie there, boneless on the bed. Maybe she shouldn’t look—no, she _definitely_ shouldn’t, but his hole is red and puffy and tender looking, come leaking out of it in thick white drops, and her heart speeds up even faster when she thinks that Ben, _Ben_ , the love of her life, Ben who makes her coffee in the morning and hates broccoli and held her for hours when the US women soccer team lost against Finland, Ben was _there_ and he was out of control and he made a _mess_ of Poe—

“Rey.” 

She startles. And flinches back when Ben’s hand cups her cheek. He tilts his head and gives her a curious, sated look. “Hey. Still okay?”

She nods. She nods and it’s not a lie—she _is_ okay, she _loved_ this, it’s just that she’s not quite sure what—

“Sweetheart. You are shaking.” His voice is soft as he tugs her to a standing position. Rey can’t even recall sitting on the bed. “You sure you’re okay?” He touches her soothingly on the shoulder, on her back, down her arm.

“Yes. Yes. I just…”

She just—she doesn’t know. She is tense. She is—on the brink. This is—Ben and Poe, they’re doing exactly what she asked them to do, and she can’t thank them enough for it, but there is something inside her now, something sore and tender and pulsating that feels like a crossbow ready to snap, that has her tremble and sweat and shiver at the same time and she doesn’t even know how to explain it to him, to _them_ , that she—

“Shh,” Ben murmurs. There is a knowing smile on his lips. “I’ll take care of it. Are you hot?”

Yes. Yes, she is hot. So hot. She is melting. “How do you know?” Rey closes her eyes.

“Shh,“ he repeats, and he’s unbuttoning her dress, taking it off until it pools at her feet and she is completely naked and—

Sweet relief. If very brief.

“Let me make you come. Okay?”

Rey opens her eyes and Ben is kneeling in front of her, letting his hand trail up her sticky, messy inner thigh, smiling in that soft, familiar way that always reassures her. Yes. _Yes_. This weird feeling—this weird feeling rolling through her will go away if she comes, if she finally comes after having watched the most phonographic, sensual thing she’s ever seen, and Ben’s lips tracing her slit and parting her labia, Ben’s lips—

Yeah. Yes. Ah, _ah, yes_. That’ll do it. 

Rey feels herself sink into his hands and his tongue and his love and that terrible tension begins to melt inside her, like maybe, _maybe_ she won’t have to be on this verge forever, maybe this heat will cool and her body will soften again and that taut knot inside her will loosen. Maybe. If Ben continues, right this way.

“You are so beautiful.”

Her eyes spring open. She had—not quite forgotten about Poe, but the last she’d seen of him he’d looked wrecked, almost passed out and full of Ben’s spend, and now—

Rey gasps.

“Really, though,” Poe continues. With a smile, but for once it doesn’t seem like he’s joking. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s sprawled on his back now, hand moving up and down his cock as he watches Rey. Or, to be precise, as he watches Ben swirling his tongue around Rey’s clit. Pleasure licks down her spine, like electricity. “You are so fucking beautiful, and sexy, and I thought so even before seeing your ass and your tits. I’m not sure Ben deserves you.”

Ben must agree. And he must be unbothered by Poe’s words, because he smiles into her cunt and hums. 

Rey lets her head fall back, and her eyes drift closed.

“I bet you guys are glorious, when you fuck. I bet Ben loses it the second he gets inside you. I can see it from the way he looks at you.”

The sound—the rhythmic wet sound, is probably Ben’s mouth. Or maybe Poe’s hand as he touches himself. Rey has no notion.

“Rey. I bet it’s magnificent, fucking you.”

A lick that is more forceful, more broad-tongued than the others, and then Ben pulls back, sucking his lips.

“It is.” Ben is answering Poe, but his hand comes up, and his fingers twine with Rey’s. “It’s the best thing thing I’ve ever felt.” 

Poe whimpers. 

Maybe she should feel mortified. Or embarrassed. Or impatient, that Ben stopped now that her orgasm is so blessedly, deliciously close. But when she sees him smile, all she can do is smile back and run her fingers through his hair.

“What do you say, Rey?” he asks, and in that moment she feels like she owns him. Like she truly _owns_ Ben Solo. “Do you want to fuck him?”

It’s a difficult question to answer. Because—Rey is not sure that she wants to fuck Poe. She has thought about Poe and Ben together a great deal, but she has never, not once, looked at Poe and though she’d like to have sex with him. But it doesn’t really matter, because _this_ is not it. This is not what they’re talking about, and Ben, Ben _of course_ is able to put it into words for her. 

“Do you want me to watch while he fucks you, sweetheart?” he whispers in her belly, and Rey wonders if Poe can even hear. “Do you want me to watch him fuck you, now that his ass is full of my spunk?” 

She doesn’t even hesitate before nodding. And Poe—Poe must have heard them after all, because as Ben kisses her sweetly she hears him mutter something about how unbelievably _lucky_ he is, how this is the best night of his life, and—

She wants to do this. She really does. 

“Condom,“ Ben orders after letting go of her. He opens the bedside drawer and tosses a black square to Poe, who catches it by reflex as he sits up.

“Wait, why? I thought we said no condoms, that we’re all safe and—”

“No one’s coming inside Rey,” Ben tells him with a voice that brooks no argument. “Except for me.”

Rey doesn’t care. She has entered a slightly mindless zone, in which all that matters is the feeling of Poe’s muscles under her palms and she straddles him, and his sweaty, unfamiliar smell is filling her nostrils, and his hands on her hips feel foreign but not unpleasant. Ben is there after all, his large hand caressing her nape as she kisses another man for the first time in years. But Poe, his lips, his tongue, his sighs and his grateful babbling, they all feel like an extension of Ben.

And Rey revels in it.

“God, Rey, you’re so soft and pretty.” He is very good. Experienced. Precise, in the way he licks her nipples and flicks her clit with his thumb. His kisses are shallower than Ben’s, but more purposeful. His jaw scratchier under her teeth. His finger, when he slides one inside her, shorter and less blunt. “You’re so wet—you smell so _good_. Shit, if you were mine I wouldn’t let anyone come inside you, either.”

Rey’s not used to the smell of latex anymore. And she’s not used to try to fit with someone who’s not even an inch taller than her. And yet, Poe slides in smoothly. He’s nowhere near as large as Ben, but it’s still a tight fit, and they both groan when Rey’s thighs come to rest on his hips and he bottoms out.

“Jesus fucking—Rey. Rey Rey _Rey_.” Poe arches back, and closes his eyes. And then he laughs. “Ben. You fucker. You lucky fucker.” And then he’s moving, and she’s moving, too, and it’s heaven. The itch that has been building inside her since that first day in the Jamba Juice—“ _Ben tops”_ —is finally cresting, building towards _something_ , swelling in waves of pleasure as she grinds on Poe and he thrusts up inside her, and Ben is there, Ben is _there_ with her, in the air she breathes and—

She first feels the mattress sink behind her; and then, something cold and sticky on her skin. 

On her—

She knows what it is. They have done this far too many times for Rey not to recognize the sensation of lube on herself, but it still doesn’t really compute for a moment that while she’s riding Poe Ben would—

“Ben,” she gasps.

He kisses her shoulder. “No?”

_Oh God. Oh God._

“Please say yes,” Poe pleads. He is still pushing up inside her. “Please. Both of us, please.”

She wants to. Say yes. But she can’t. She can’t possibly. She can’t endure something like that, surely her body is not made for it, not large enough, and—

“It’s okay. I’ll make it feel good,” Ben whispers, and then he shows with one finger, two. Three. They slide inside, inexorable, too tight, and—it’s unfair that something this dangerous should feel _this_ good. Truly unfair.

“She’s getting tighter,” Poe gasps. “God—she getting even tighter, Ben.”

“She can take it,” Ben is saying, to her, to Poe, and Rey feels his heat against her back. There is a sense of pride in his voice. “She can take it all. Look at you, sweetheart.” It’s not this fingers anymore. It’s not his—this time it’s—God he is _so_ — “You can take both of us, and you’re going to come while we fill you up, aren’t you?” All of this, he mouths on the skin of her shoulder. And then he abruptly exhales when he and Poe meet, separated by barely anything, and—

Yeah. Oh, yeah. Entirely too much. But perfect.

“ _Rey_.” Poe’s eyes have rolled back. “Rey. You’re so...”

Full. Overwhelmed. Obscene. Unraveled. Broken, almost.

She arches back to let Ben catch her lips, and he murmurs: “Fuckable.” She moans in his mouth.

They stay like that for a moment. Silent and still; with Poe’s hand holding Rey’s waist and Ben’s arms wrapped around her torso. Both their cocks lodged deep, so deep inside of her.

Then Ben’s fingers slide down her body, and as he taps on her clit he whispers:

“Now, move.”

…

“It was different.”

“Different?”

“Well. Than I expected.” Rey shrugs, and taps her fingernails on the plastic table. Jamba Juice is usually not this crowded during lunchtime, but the sandwich place across the street is closed today; Rey wants to keep her voice down, but if it’s too low Poe won’t hear her over the background noise. “But in a… in a good way.”

“You didn’t feel like we…”

“No. No, it was…” She still hasn’t found a proper way to describe it. What seems to get closer is: “Perfect.” So that’s what she says.

“Yeah.” Poe nods. And then he lets out a breathy, relieved laugh. “Yeah, it was pretty perfect.”

Rey smiles. “So… I was talking about it with Ben. And I told him—I’d… I’d be up for doing it again. Sometime.” She shrugs again. Someone walks past her with an open cup, and the smell of banana wafts over to her. 

“And… what did Ben say?”

_Ben fucked me through the mattress. Twice. And called me his kinky little girl. And then he made me French toast._ “He’d be up for it.” She clears her throat, and finally manages to ask: “Would you?”

Poe’s yes is written in his smile.

...

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS AMAZING, STUNNING, PERFECT ART IS BY [SKERFT](https://twitter.com/skerft1) who is the best and also beta'd this fic!! (guys i was coerced into writing preylo in exchange for a basic need of mine to be met (bacnelo) i hope you know it).  
>   
>   
> You can find me [on Twitter! 💕](https://twitter.com/EverSoAli)


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